


Other Uses

by yeaka



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Anthropomorphic, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M, Object Insertion, Smauglock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 13:42:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1650671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smaug returns to find Bilbo... ‘experimenting.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Other Uses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emeraldawn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeraldawn/gifts).



> A/N: Plot by Ritsuko-chan, written by moi, for the amazing emeraldawn, who, several years ago, was born in a brilliant shower of fireworks that blinded the world, for she is gloriously awe-inspiring and blesses us with each step across this Earth. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It was a harrowing trip, all and all; even traveling far above the clouds, Hobbiton is a long way off. He had to make it in one day to avoid suspicion; he’s never been gone longer. His wings still ache from the speed, even as they sink into his newly-soft skin, peach-and-red in the throws of transformation. ...It also doesn’t help that he can only seem to shrink himself so small, and even with the appearance of a man, he towers over the small halflings. The one he bought the pipe from was trembling, poor dear. Smaug briefly considering breathing a storm of fire to incinerate the shopkeeper just to put him out of his misery.

But of course, Bilbo wouldn’t like to find hobbit bones between Smaug’s teeth, so he behaved himself. Now he has a new pipe to show for it—a well-chosen, specially-carved gift Bilbo won’t be expecting—and he closes it tight in his long fingers as he strolls through the ancient halls. He often wonders why the dwarves built them so tall; in his true form, he can _almost_ make it down these caverns.

This is easier. Utterly naked as he always is in their home, as both of them always are, Smaug creeps up the steps that lead to their bedchambers. These feet are softer: quieter. His horns and the long tail slithering behind him are the only real signs of his former glory, though his eyes glint gold and he sports stray smatterings of crimson, scale-like texture. Without his wings, he can easily fit through the crack in the ajar wooden doors. Only the low orange flicker of a few candles lights the room, and Smaug is initially in darkness. He keeps it that way, creeping towards the bed. Bilbo always waits for him there.

He stops in his tracks a second later, having actually spotted his hobbit, and needing a moment to breathe. 

Bilbo’s sprawled out on the plush purple sheets, the grand curtains drawn back to reveal everything, and the faint light paints his pretty skin gold. He’s lying on his back with his legs spread wide in the air, body arched up and head tossed back. His honeyed curls are slicked to his forehead with sweat, matching the thin, glistening sheen all over him. He’s horrendously flushed, eyes closed and pale lashes fluttering, lips stretched wide around a pained groan. One hand is fisted in the sheets, the other between his legs. His thighs are highlighted a luminescent blue and green. The arkenstone, an unmistakable beauty, glistens from between them, and Smaug has to step closer to see—the great gem is stuffed half-inside Bilbo’s ass, pink, puckered hole stretched impossibly wide around it. 

Smaug drops the pipe, having clean forgotten it, and it clatters against the stone floor. Bilbo’s eyes fly open, toes curling as his body tenses. Smaug stares at him for a moment, and Bilbo turns redder and redder. 

Bilbo lets go of the arkenstone with an agonized squeal and darts both of his hands up to cover his face, clearly dying of embarrassment, while his stomach and thighs tremble with the effort of taking the arkenstone unaided. It’s much, much too large to be inside him, and a part of Smaug is glad he arrived home in time to stop its full entry into Bilbo’s body—if such a thing is even possible. If Bilbo’s belly is going to bulge, it’s going to be from _Smaug’s_ seed, and nothing else. 

As the shock subsides, a smirk sets in, and Smaug asks, barely able to contain himself, “What in all of Middle Earth were you doing, little one?” He strolls closer, close enough to take a seat on the side of the bed, and Bilbo doesn’t move, just shudders and twitches. Smaug means to go to Bilbo’s face and tug those small hands aside, but instead he finds himself leaning over Bilbo’s ass, running one finger along the puckered brim. He’s pleased to find it wet. It still is no match for the hardness of the stone, which he imagines must be unforgiving and incredibly uncomfortable, but at least Bilbo’s pretty hole doesn’t appear damaged. Smaug leans in to inspect it as much as he can, just to be safe. 

Bilbo makes a whimpering sound, probably more from the pain of being impaled so thickly than from shame. Then he mumbles, “I... oh, I can’t believe you saw me... I was just trying to... um... stretch... myself...” When Smaug looks over at Bilbo’s face, he’s peeking through his fingers. Blushing hotly, he explains, “I, um... I was thinking about you, in... in your true form...”

Smaug can’t contain his smirk. His lips are pealed back to expose all his pointed teeth, and he chuckles so very fondly, “You are truly adorable, my dear Bilbo. ...You must know my truth girth would never fit in your tiny body. No matter how hard you try to... _stretch yourself._ ” But it does make him so very pleased to have Bilbo think of it. He reaches back to affectionately rub Bilbo’s tummy, and when he presses down hard enough, he can feel the very stiff indent of the stone inside Bilbo’s abused body. Smaug makes a tsking sound at that; his hobbit deserves far, far better treatment.

“I know,” Bilbo grunts, stopping to cry out loudly when Smaug taps the arkenstone, ever so lightly, just to see how firmly it’s inside. It sets Bilbo to squirming on it for a moment, trembling anew and nearly crying, tongue out of his mouth like a panting animal that’s gone mad from sheer _sensation_. Smaug watches for a moment, then returns to petting Bilbo’s stomach, encouraging more. It takes Bilbo several shaky breaths to manage, “I... I thought maybe... I could take the tip of your tail... or one of your spikes, I... ohhh... _Smaug_.” He arches off the bed, and the way he looks at Smaug is absolutely _filthy_ : a desperate plea for _more_.

It’s obvious that Bilbo can’t take anymore of the stone, and Smaug wouldn’t want to damage him, anyway. Smaug climbs off the bed and walks around it, settling down at the back instead, and he playfully tugs one of Bilbo’s ankles and purrs, “Roll over, my treasure. I will ease your pain.” Bilbo licks his lips, looking far too far-gone to truly appreciate the words, but he nods, and he listens. He rolls over onto his stomach, whimpering at each little movement, and he lets Smaug grab both of his thighs and jerk him into position. Bilbo grabs at one of the large pillows and buries his face in it, clearly aware that he’s about to scream. 

Before he begins, Smaug takes one final, glorious moment to drink in the gorgeous sight of his lover’s ripe ass, cheeks pushed so very wide to accommodate a monster. Fortunately, the arkenstone is only half inside, and there’s plenty left to grasp onto. Smaug takes a firm hold and asks, “Are you ready?”

Bilbo shakes his head, but Smaug knows the true meaning; he’ll never be ready. He should’ve never done something so foolish in the first place, no matter how wonderful his motives. As punishment, Smaug jerks the arkenstone clear in one rough tug; it pops out of Bilbo with an audible squelching noise, though Bilbo’s shriek, even muffled by the pillow, easily covers it. Smaug tosses the stone aside—though it might’ve been worth a fortune once, it’s _nothing_ compared to Smaug’s greatest treasure: Bilbo himself. Bilbo’s gaping hole drips an ample amount of lube as it convulses violently, Bilbo’s pink insides disappearing into shadows as their brim tries to constrict. Smaug stares at it hungrily and drinks in Bilbo’s hearty sobs. This is easily one of the best things he’s ever come home to. 

He lets Bilbo adjust for a few moments, and then he simply can’t contain himself. He climbs forward between Bilbo’s legs, body draping over Bilbo’s back, and he pops the head of his cock easily into Bilbo’s shivering body. Bilbo’s walls seem to close around him, deliciously soft, even loose as they are—but Smaug is massively thick enough to still feel pressure. Normally, it takes an excessive amount of preparation for Bilbo to take him; this is probably the quickest Smaug’s ever pushed inside. 

Smaug presses his weight down onto his tiny hobbit’s body and licks the back of Bilbo’s ear, purring huskily into it, “You’ve taken all of me on the first thrust, little one... impressive.”

Bilbo lets out a mindless moan, and then he presses his face back against Smaug, turning to try and reach for a kiss. He can’t quite make it, so Smaug takes pity and bends around him the rest of the way, pecking his wet lips. Another moan, and Bilbo gasps, “You feel so _good_ , ohhh... so _soft_ after that, and... and warm and _alive_.”

Smuag hisses, “ _Yes_ ,” and presses a sloppy kiss to Bilbo’s cheek; he’s pulsing inside Bilbo’s shuddering channel, delighted already. He doesn’t dare pull out to slam inside, though he’s been known before to pound Bilbo into the mattress hard enough to make the frame collapse—he’s repaired it too many times to count. But now, he wouldn’t dream of hurting his most precious jewel, and he simply rocks himself instead, beginning to gently grind into Bilbo’s heat. Bilbo makes a mewling sound of adoration, and suddenly, the random gift of an engraved pipe from Bilbo’s hometown is a fitting reward for such heartfelt preparation and a magnificent sight to come home to. But Smaug will fetch and deal with it later; for now, there’s only _Bilbo_.

Smaug wraps his arms tight around Bilbo’s waist and pulls Bilbo into him, flattening them as one. He makes slow love to his darling lover, and while Smaug’s scatters the back of Bilbo’s neck in kisses, the two of them whisper, “ _I love you_ ,” in almost perfect unison.


End file.
